Between Reality and Dreams
by Solofmysoul
Summary: In the matter of seconds Elena Gilbert has to make a decision that could wreck havoc on everything she's worked so hard for. But he is her only choice and she'll have to trust him with what's most precious to her. Their past and present blur together and blame and forgiveness threaten to tear them apart once again, but this time the stakes are much higher. [AU;AH]


_Hello world! I'm very excited to be here, it's my first story and I hope it'll be a fun read for you. I have a rough outline of the plot, but still not a 100% sure on the details of whats to come. The only thing that's for sure, is that this story will be told in about 15-18 chapters with LOTS of flashbacks as they are vital to the story. I'm also planning on eventually changing back and forth between Damon's and Elena's POV, but this chapter starts with purely Elena. All you need to know is that Elena has a five year old daughter, Rosie and they both haven't seen Damon in quite a long time, although he used to be a BIG part of their lives. Other than that, the story is AU and all human. I really hope you enjoy and I'm happy about all and any feedback!_

* * *

 **Elena's POV**

First impressions are everything! Back in high school I would spend hours making sure every part of my outfit and my makeup was perfect before stepping on the bus on the first day of school. I walked the halls confidently even as a freshman, knowing that no matter who I would end up being friends with, nobody could find anything bad to say about me even if they tried. My hairstyle, my smile, my walk - everything was practiced to perfection.

But today I am making every mistake my 14-year old me would have been sure not to make. I am late, I look like a complete mess and I am as unprepared for the day ahead of me as I could possibly be! I'm blaming the cat for that! If Nemo hadn't tugged at the charger cable hanging from my nightstand - causing the phone connected to it to fall down into his water bowl - my alarm would have gone off at 6 o'clock just as planned.

Instead, I was woken up just short of two hours later by the phone ringing in the kitchen. It was Rosie's babysitter, who was supposed to take care of her today because the stupid kindergarten doesn't open until noon on Friday's and the interview I have to attend starts at 9:30. Faye had been recommended to me by one of the fellow kindergarten parents as an excellent babysitter and while I didn't like the thought of having to leave my little girl with a stranger, it was the only option and she sounded lovely when I contacted her. But this morning, on the phone, her voice was all out of breath and panicked. From what I gathered from her ramble of information, her boyfriend had been in an accident and she had to go to the hospital with him. For the tiniest second, I was tempted to ask her if she couldn't just take Rosie with her to the hospital, but then I realized what a horrible person I am and told her how sorry I was about her boyfriend and that I hoped he would be ok.

And that's when I started to panic! With only one hour to go until my interview and a five year old whom I had to find a sitter for I was ready to just go back to bed and hide under my blankets for the rest of the day. With a little bit of luck nobody would bother me again today and I could actually finish that book I started reading months ago…

But no! Today is the day I've been working towards for the past six years. I've just finished my masters degree in journalism a month ago and immediately packed up everything - not that there was a lot holding me there anyways - and moved Rosie and I to New York City. This is my dream. Has been for as long as I can remember. And this interview for a position at the New York Times that I'm going to be late for will either make or break my dream! First impressions are crucial and so far the opinion the interviewers are going to have of me after just one first glance is going downhill by the minute! Maybe it would be faster to walk? The cab we're in has been standing still for at least a full minute, the traffic so bad that I can't even see the end of the line of cars behind us!

But I don't know where I need to go, this city is the opposite of the sleepy little coast town in Maine I attended university in. There, I cycled everywhere, a car would have been too expensive for me anyways and every place I had to find was only a few minutes away from our apartment. But here, instead of salty ocean air and neighbours nodding a hello to each other in the morning, I'm overwhelmed by the constant noise, the anonymity and the never ending streets so full of rushing people that I am struggling to breathe! New York is so not like in the movies…

Which is exactly the reason I'm now sitting in a cab, behind the driver who chews gum loudly while my daughter looks jealously at him from the seat next to me. She's barely five years old, and still not allowed to chew gum. But considering the fact that I'm letting her sit in a cab without a car seat right now - maybe I should just throw out each and every rule I've ever made up here and now.

I don't even want to think about how what I'm going to do right now is going to screw up my little girl. I never considered myself a great mother. I am a busy mother, a stressed mother and a single mother. But I have always been proud of the fact that I give Rosie structure - her care givers in Maine were people I could trust my daughter with at all times, the neighbour from upstairs (a sweet old lady) and the young daughter of the bakery owner (a 14 year old girl who spoiled Rosie rotten but was more reliable at her young age than I am now). Today however, I'm not gonna earn the mother of the year award! And since Faye is on her way to her boyfriend with terrible timing (who is hopefully doing ok) I am without a babysitter. Of all the days this could have happened, it had to be the one marked with a giant red circle on our kitchen calendar: INTERVIEW DAY.

Even though I've been living in the city for over a month, I haven't made any friends I could ask to watch Rosie. And I don't know of any babysitters I could just call. Especially on such short notice!

So I'm on my way to the only person I can trust my daughter with. He owes me. And although I promised myself - and him - that he would never see me or Rosie ever again, he is the only option I have if I want to make it in time for my interview. It's been so long since I've last seen him. So long that I can barely remember the exact color of the eyes I used to lose my mind looking into.

"Mommy, are we gonna be there soon?" Rosie jabs her little finger into my side and scoots forward on her seat, snapping me out of my worries. "I hope so honey, if the traffic clears up we'll be there in a few minutes." I look at my daughter, who looks like an adorable little snowman in her winter coat, scarf and hat. She is still so little. And I don't think she has any memory whatsoever of Damon, so I am basically making her stay with a male stranger - and one that has hurt the two of us terribly in the past. But even though in the end he abandoned us, he used to be good to her. She loved him when she was little, got excited whenever I just mentioned he was coming to visit. That is the only reason I can even consider leaving her with him now, although if it hurts like crazy. That she loved him once.

"How do you feel about staying with mommy's old friend Rosie? Are you a bit scared because you don't know him well?" She looks at me with a wide grin and shakes her head. "I'm never scared mommy! And he's your friend, so he has to be my friend, too. We could play horsey or I could show him how good I can write my name!" Rosie takes her gloves off, shoves them to the side and takes her little plastic horse out of the pocket of her coat. She makes it move over the handle of the car door and makes snuffing noises with her nose to indicate the horse is running. Then she halts and turns back towards me. "Maybe we can even go out to the park and find some snow to play in. While you're doing your boring interview we'll have lots of fun and we could build a snow man or maybe he has Frozen on DVD and we can watch it together!", she exclaims excitedly.

Somehow it makes me feel a little bit better that while I might not be the best mother imaginable, I have raised a confident and fierce little girl who will hopefully give Damon a run for his money while she stays with him.

The traffic finally clears up and before I am ready, the cab stops in front of a gorgeous old brick building with cherry trees all along the side walk. Obviously things have changed for Damon, he certainly seems to have done well for himself. After I've paid the driver and lifted Rosie out of the car, we walk up the stairs to the front door and I hold her up and let her ring the doorbell like she requests.

My heart is beating so fast, much faster than he deserves. My face feels heated but I can pretend it's because of the cold air. I hate that I even care, but I wish I would look a little bit more presentable today. After all, he hasn't seen me in two years and I don't want him to think that he's the only one whose gotten a handle on life since then.

"Is he even home?", Rosie asks while she tiptoes on the edge of the stairs impatiently. I take her hand because it's making me anxious to see her wobble and I don't want her to fall.

"I'm sure he's home Rosie, but it's a big house and it probably just takes a little longer to get to the door." I try to sound cheerful, but in reality, I hadn't even thought about the possibility of him not being home before we arrived here.

But Rosie is right. He might be god-knows-where! For all I know he could be filming a movie in Iceland right now! Shit. He was my last hope and a terrible one at that!

If he isn't home what am I going to- Suddenly the door swings open and I am face to face with the man I swore to never talk to again for the rest of my life. And after taking one look at him, I remember why. How am I supposed to leave my daughter with this man and all of his mussed hair and unshaved face who didn't even bother to put a shirt or pants on before answering the door?! It is November and he's standing in front of us barefoot, only in his boxers!

Taking a deep breath, I grab Rosie's hand a little tighter and take a step backwards. "Hello Damon." He doesn't even respond, just looks back and forth between me and Rosie. Oh god this was a mistake, a huge fucking mistake! I push my wide eyed daughter behind my back to shield her from his-, his uncovered-ness!

"Elena…", he mutters and the helplessness in his voice only gives me a little bit of satisfaction, "What are you doing here?". I hadn't been expecting a hug and a welcome party, but jeez! I used to want him to marry me for goodness sake!

But the shock on his face momentarily distracts me from the fact that we have a very troubled history and he seems to have come straight out of bed. I have the upper hand here after all. This is my plan and my daughter and he owes me big time!

"Believe me Damon, I don't want to be here any more than you want me here! But I need your help." When he only smoothes his palm over his stubbly jaw and nods, I add "Can we come in?" He holds the door open a little wider and finally speaks, "Yes, of course, come in."

The hallway is meticulously tidy but also signature Damon eccentric. The walls are a cave-like grey and the black lamps hanging from the ceiling omit a shady light, making the space seem like the perfect setting for an old horror flick. Damon has moved to the closet behind the door and thankfully has the decency to throw on some clothes before facing Rosie and me again.

I expect Rosie to giggle when he emerges in a fluffy white bathrobe - still barefoot. But instead she's eerily quiet and I look down to see her staring at Damon, wide-eyed and with unflinching shock. "Honey, it's ok." I whisper to her, trying to reassure her (and me). But she keeps quiet and so I turn back to Damon.

"It's good to see you two! But- I'm a bit surprised. This would be a little less awkward - and more dressed for sure - if you had called!", he says and the tiny hint of frustrated accusation makes me want to turn around and drag Rosie out the door - after stepping on his bare feet with my heels for good measure!

But unfortunately he is my only option, so I take a deep breath and try to explain. "I'm running out of time, so I'll make this quick. We moved here a month ago and I have an interview in about half an hour for a job. If I mess this up I'll be unemployed in New York City and I want to avoid that at all cost. But Rosie's babysitter had to cancel last minute this morning and your the only one I know here. So will you take care of her for a couple hours until I'm done?" My voice is almost breaking, all the stress of this morning, the shock of seeing him again and this damned guilt I carry in my gut because I'll have to leave Rosie with him - it's too much. But I can't be weak in front of him, definitely can't start crying.

Damon looks at Rosie and sighs. "Of course, if that's what you want, I'll watch her!" Instead of his usual cockiness, I can sense that he is overwhelmed with the situation, too. "Thank you.", I tell him and this time, it's sincere.

I kneel down to be at eye level with Rosie. She finally takes her eyes off of Damon and looks at me. "Mommy's going to her interview now, Rosie girl. And Damon will take good care of you. You two can play horsey and watch a movie and I'll be back real soon, okay my love?" I have to be strong for her, show her that this situation isn't scary but instead the promise of a fun-filled morning. But something is going very, very wrong here! Usually Rosie runs excitedly to every stranger, having no inhibition to talk to everyone she meets, often giving me a heart attack, but now her big round eyes fill with tears.

"Don't go Mommy!" she whispers, and my heart breaks. Did Damon's reaction to us scare her? She's never had any problem staying with a babysitter before! "I'm so sorry Rosie. But it won't be long, and I promise I'll hurry to get you right after I'm done."

There was a time where Damon would have swooped in right in this moment, tickling her tears away and involving her in one of his silly games. Back when she used to believe he hung the moon and would prefer his bedtime stories over mine any day. But now he just awkwardly stands by, watching our exchange.

Rosie's tears are falling down her cheeks now and I'm at a complete loss at what to do. I need to go, I'm already so late but how am I supposed to leave her like this? "Please stop crying Rosie! It's okay. I won't be gone for long and you and Damon are going to have so much fun!" I almost beg her. She stretches her arms out and buries her little face in my neck. "But I don't want to stay with dad!"

I freeze and next to us, I hear Damon suck in a breath - he heard. Breathing unsteady, I hold Rosie a little further away from my face so I can see her properly. "You-, you remember Damon honey?", I ask.

I thought there was no way she would, she was still so little when he left, barely three years old. But her tearful eyes are focused on Damon's again and it's obvious she know exactly who he is - or used to be.

I close my eyes for a second, trying to decide on what to do. The only thing I can come up with, is connecting with those memories, what Damon used to be to her. It might break my heart but the only thing that matters now, is helping Rosie feel comfortable.

"Aren't you excited to see Dad? You haven't seen him in such a long time!", I look up at Damon nodding my head in Rosie's direction to signal him to come and join us. I've never seen him look this uncomfortable but he gets it together pretty quick and kneels down next to us.

For the first time since we walked through the door, he talks directly to Rosie, and no matter how much I despise him for what he did, he proves once again why I used to think he was perfect for my little girl.

"Hey sweetheart. I'm really happy you remember me! You're so big now, I almost didn't recognize you. But I can understand that you're a little bit scared because we haven't seen each other in so long. That must be kind of weird for you. But I'm sure we can have some fun today while your mom is away. And you can tell me all about what you're up to now, your friends and your new home." His voice is a little bit unsteady, but warm and comforting. Just like he always used to talk to her. He looks at me after he stops talking and I give him a reassuring nod.

Rosie turns a bit more towards him and after a few sniffling breaths she wipes away her tears and says with too much bravery for her tiny persona: "I'm never scared!" Damon and I both start laughing, and it's a relief!

"Of course your not Rosie!", he smiles and even though it takes some effort, she returns the smile. When Damon and I get back on our feet, she asks curiously: "Do you have Frozen on DVD?" He looks confused only for a second but then answers: "I don't think so but I'm sure we can find it somewhere on the internet for you - but maybe I should go and get dressed real quick, so why don't you and mommy say goodbye and I'll be right back!" He winks at her and then jogs to the stairs, disappearing up into the second floor.

Left alone with Rosie, I am fearful that saying good-bye will start another crying session, but the prospect of Frozen and Damon talking sweetly to her seem to have calmed her down a bit.

"Are you going to be a good girl for Damon and have lots of fun for me my sweets?", I ask her softly while unzipping her coat and sliding the hat and scarf off of her. Rosie smiles brightly and I thank heavens for her good-natured spirit. She's a trooper, my little girl!

"Yes mommy, I'll be very good! I'll probably be so good that you'll have to take me to get ice cream after to reward me.", she giggles and I give her a big hug. "You'll get all the ice cream you want when I get back, but if we get ice cream in this weather, we'll be frozen not only on the outside but on the inside, too!"

My daughter steps away and starts twirling around the room, pretending to be Elsa, freezing the hallway with rushed little hand motions.

That's how Damon finds us, as he walks down the stairs, fully dressed this time. He dresses much more smartly now, instead of one of the lose fitting tees I remember him wearing all the time he is wearing a button-up under his usual leather jacket.

When he catches me looking at him he smiles, but it is forced and I hurry to look somewhere else. "I should probably go now. You two have a good time!" I tell him while looking at Rosie. She waves at me and then continues to play, so I figure it's a good moment to leave. As I turn around to make my exit, I suddenly feel nauseous. They haven't seen each other in two years. What is he going to do with a little girl he knows next to nothing about.

"She has already had breakfast but if she wants a snack that's fine. And she's brought some toys. But please don't take her outside, even if she asks you to, I'm not comfortable with that! And don't give her anything to eat before you read the ingredients, she's highly allergic to-" Damon stops me, his voice amused: "to peanuts. I know Elena." A little quieter, he adds without looking at me: "It's not the first time I'm taking care of her, I know what she needs." My eyes fill with tears and I catch his gaze,: "I know Damon! But it's been a long time and things have changed." I'm talking about Rosie but I hope he understands that the statement also encapsulates everything else about our lives. About me.

Without waiting for a reply, I rush out the door and jog to the next intersection, to wave down a taxi. My heart feels heavy and there's a lump in my throat I can't seem to swallow away.

 _I know what she needs._ It's true. He used to know her every reaction, what her favourite stuffy was, how to make her eat the veggies she despised and how to make her laugh no matter how hard she was crying.

I used to watch them play and cuddle and feel pure joy. At night, in bed when the house was quiet and I couldn't sleep I often passed time by imagining the two of them together in later years. How he would clap the loudest at her dance recitals and cheer for her at soccer matches. Teach her to drive. Take her ice skating. Go camping with her. Walk her down the isle.

My tears are blinding me as I wait on the side walk. I must look a total mess, but I'm just glad I was able to hold it together while I was inside Damon's apartment. The last thing I wanted was to let him see what it did to me to see him again. Because then he would know how fucking terrible it was for me when he left. How much he hurt me. And how impossible it seemed to let him go.

Rosie called him dad. She still knew, even after all this time. It was hard for me but she must have been confused out of her mind about the whole situation! My poor little girl. First I refused to talk about Damon for years, trying to erase him from both our memories, and now I just dumped her at his place without any warning or explanation, expecting her to just roll with it. Rosie is just too good to me, too easy. I am completely spoiled with her usual easy-going behaviour, the way she doesn't even question any peculiar situation or change I throw at her.

But I shouldn't have expected her to be fine with something as huge and overwhelming as meeting Damon again. There should have been a long talk beforehand about it. And the reason that talk didn't happen wasn't just the need to hurry this morning. To be honest, I was glad I didn't have the time to give my decision a second thought or ask Rosie how she felt about it. Because a talk about Damon would have had to include an explanation about why he has been gone from our lives for so very long. And what happened back then is a big, messy, twisted ordeal that I stored away in the back of my brain two years ago and tried so hard to forget every single day since. So how could I possibly explain to my little girl what happened between Damon and me, when I've never allowed myself to really understand it or deal with it properly?

Finally a cab driver has mercy on me and stops. I open the backseat-door with cold, clammy hands but after sitting down and telling the driver the address I have as a screensaver on my phone, I wish I could sit next to her in the front. She is probably around the same age as me and her face under the big furry beanie is quite pretty as she looks at me pitiful.

It takes some restraint to stop myself from bursting out my story to this stranger, I'm longing for someone to talk to, anyone really. But our only interaction during the drive is at a stop light when she hands me a tissue so that I can blow my nose and wipe at my tear stained eyes.

Even in Maine I didn't belong to the popular crowd and only had few friends, but I knew that I wasn't alone and I always had someone to confide in. Here in New York City, I know no-one. Before moving here I didn't think that would be possible when living around and with millions of people.

But after the past month of being constantly surrounded by hurried faces that pass by without stopping, they have all sort of merged into one soul-less bunch of strangers that I can't seem to desire to connect with.

And even the parent's of Rosie's kindergarten buddies, even though they are nice, will most likely never become anything more than acquaintances. They are polite and helpful, but most of them are a good 10-15 years older than me and lead very different lives.

I keep quiet and try to distract myself from the chaotic morning by going through my notes. Before waking up today to so much trouble, I felt excited about this interview. It's the New York Times after all, it's what I've been dreaming of for five years and it's a big fucking deal!

Even as a little girl, just scribbling away in my journals or making up stories at school rather than listening to the teacher, writing and story-telling has always been my passion. I've been saving my money for as long as I can remember, in order to eventually move to New York City and become a journalist. It's not fame or fortune that intrigues me about the career, it's meeting so many interesting people, being able to voice my opinion and educate people about important issues.

Yet here I am, on the verge of destroying my dream because I'm letting Damon get in my head once again! He's always had that effect on me. Like whenever he's around the world gets a little bit blurred, softened around the edges, so there's only him, clear as day, in the centre of everything. But I'm not that lovestruck little girl anymore. I have toughened. I am a mother and I am strong.

I won't be able to ignore his existence any longer after today, can't for Rosie's sake. But right now is not the time to figure out what to do about Damon and all the messiness that comes with him being a - though hopefully temporary - presence in our lives again. Right now I have to put on a smile, release the stress from my posture and give whoever I will need to face the impression of being one hell of a confident, capable writer!

For our future, Rosie's and mine. But most of all, for me. For my dream and for all the hard work I've been putting into it for the past years. I owe it to myself not to fuck this one up!

When the cab driver stops and I reach forward to pay her, she takes the money but halts before turning back around. "I'm sorry to say it, but you look awful girl!" At first I'm too shocked to even respond, why on earth would this woman be so horrible to me, can't she see I'm already pretty darn low?! But then the corners of her lips rise up into a sweet, sympathetic smile and she follows up, "That came out wrong. But seriously,we need to fix you up before you leave this cab. If you're planning on going in there", she nods her head in the direction of the tall building that has "New York Times" written in loopy black capital letters over the entrance, "then you should _not_ be looking like you've just watched the notebook on repeat for a week and are still feeling all the feels that no stranger should see you feeling! I mean, just look at you!" She shakes her head and I can't help but laugh, even though it sounds a little desperate.

I arch my neck to get a look at myself in the rearview mirror above her head - and I see that she hasn't been telling anything but the truth! My eyes look red and puffy, mascara smudged underneath them and there are disgusting snot tracks where my nose was running earlier.

"I see what you mean!" I sigh in the direction of the driver while searching my purse for a make-up wipe. She winks and turns off the engine.

Then, to my surprise, she unbuckles and gets out of the cab. Unsure of what to do, I just sit still and wait. After a few seconds, she has walked around the car and gets in next to me.

"Alright, let's fix this mess, shall we?" She exclaims enthusiastically and hands me a little pouch. Stunned, I nod but can't help but ask, "Why are you doing this? I mean, I really appreciate the help, but don't you need to work?"

The girl thinks about my question for only a second before answering: "Of course I need to work. But it's my cab and I can do whatever I want with the time I spent in it! And don't worry, telling my passengers they look terrible and going at them with a makeup brush in hand is not something I do on the daily - usually I'm a mean, grumpy driver who constantly complains about traffic and jaywalkers!", she tells me friendly and I immediately feel a little less weird about her being in the backseat so close to me.

"So what's different this time?" I ask her while she digs a hand mirror and some wipes out of the pouch. She then proceeds to grab multiple brushes and some concealer before telling me: "Well, if your really want to know, my boyfriend asked me to marry him this morning! And that's put me into a great mood! So when I saw you all sad on the side walk, I thought, maybe that's fate! Maybe I'm supposed to cheer you up and help you on your way a little. You know, giving back and all that…"

"That's very sweet of you!" I say sincerely. "And congrats on your engagement!" To my surprise, she doesn't thank me or moves to show me a ring on her finger, but instead breaks out into a balking - and quite unfeminine - fit of laughter as she wipes at my eyes with the makeup remover.

"Oh no, you got that all wrong!" she giggles. Confused I lean away a bit, trying to figure out if I said something inappropriate. "You're not engaged?" I ask uncertainly. She shakes her head and answers in an amused voice:

"Oh hell no! I've been trying to break up with him for weeks but couldn't get myself to go through with it because he's a really nice guy - he just also happens to be the most boring one I've ever met! I started dating him a year ago when I was in a pretty dark place. I was new here, and he was like a security blanket. But I've gotten so very tired of him in the last couple of months. So when he asked for my hand, it was the biggest relief I've had in a long, long time!", she beams.

"Alright, you've lost me! If you wanted to get rid of him, how is it a good thing that he proposed to you?" I'm curious now, somehow this strange girl has made me forget all about the fact that I usually don't willingly talk to strangers in this city.

"Well of course it was a good thing! All that worrying I did about how to tell him we're done in the cleanest and quickest way possible - it was like he could read my mind! I didn't have to say more than one word. A simple "no" and he knew everything there was to know."

She takes my chin and moves my head back a little before applying something cold underneath my eyes before continuing: "It might sound a little mean, but it sure was efficient! And he took it like a champ - or should I say, like a gentleman? He just took a deep breath, thanked me for our time together and left. His sister came by the next day and picked up the stuff he had at my apartment. And that's it - I have my freedom and my bed back!" she finishes her story while touching up all the other problem areas on my face. Handing me her mirror, she motions for me to take a look.

However cruel this girl might treat her men, I'll admit she know how to do makeup. "Wow" I exclaim, "thank you so much. This is-" I'm unsure if it's ok to say that I look good, but that's exactly what she managed to do. "-a big improvement?" She offers and I laugh "Yes! By the way, I'm Elena."

We shake hands and she introduces herself: "I'm Bonnie. And no worries, this was a whole lot more fun than driving around old men in fancy suits all day long who yell into their phones and bite their nails! I would have done more than just concealer and lipstick but I figured using my foundation on you wasn't an option!" Bonnie points at her dark skin, that does contrast very much with my pale one.

Before I leave the cab I thank her once more and we exchange phone numbers. Who knows, maybe she will become my first friend in this strange, big city? I certainly wouldn't mind! Although I'm not sure what kind of influence she'd be on my Rosie…

While I walk against the icy cold wind towards the entrance of the building I feel much more secure and optimistic than just a few minutes ago. A look at my watch tells me I'm exactly 20 minutes late. Wich is horrible!

But I am here, I am not crying anymore and I've finally remembered that what's to come now might be something big, something great. So as I break into a jog, holding on to my beanie, an excited smile breaks out on my face.

Future, here I come.

* * *

 _Well, well. I hope you got a bit of a feel for the story and I'd be super happy if you'd follow along as it continues:) There will not be any Bamon in this story (at least not as a romantic ship) but when I thought about who I'd want Elena's first friend in NYC to be, the first thing that came to mind was a sassy, super feminist and independent Bonnie as a cab driver. So I went with that..._

 _Much more is to come next chapter and it will soon be revealed why exactly Damon is SO NOT in Elena's good graces..._


End file.
